


Gutters of My Mind

by lunalovespasta



Category: Original Work
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Play, Anal Plug, Angst, Beach Holidays, Beaches, Breeding Kink, Collars, Condoms, Cunnilingus, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Doggy Style, Dom/sub, Dom/sub Play, F/M, Female Character of Color, First Time, First Time Blow Jobs, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Girl Band, Hand on Throat, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Kim Namjoon | RM-centric, Kneeling, Loss of Virginity, Lube, Massage, Mild Degradation, Missionary Position, Mutual Pining, My First AO3 Post, My First Smut, Nipple Licking, Nipple Play, Not Beta Read, Oral Sex, POV First Person, POV Male Character, POV Second Person, Penis In Vagina Sex, Pining, Rimming, Self-Indulgent, Self-Insert, Size Difference, Smut, Spanking, Spit As Lube, Sugar Daddy, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Virginity, gagging
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-17 01:35:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28716630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunalovespasta/pseuds/lunalovespasta
Summary: This is a book to be filled with my fantasies. For now, they only include myself and the nameless, faceless people of my imagination, but I do want to soon include stories that depict the various people I stan. This is mostly for my own enjoyment, but if you find yourself reading, I won't object.
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Male Character
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a scenario I've dreamed up of how I'd like my first time to go. I may or may not be interested in a sugar daddy, so if you know any, let me know lol. This is my first work published here, so be gentle, but do leave feedback and comments.
> 
> Note: This is also published on Wattpad under @sangstergangster250.

I find myself enjoying the time we spend together more than I thought. As our day fades into night, and our laughter echoes in the comfortable silence, a palpable sexual tension settles over us. Dressed in a baby pink, puff sleeved, off-the-shoulder dress, landing midthigh and contrasting my brown skin beautifully; white, wedge heels with fabric straps winding up my calf and ending behind my knee in a perfect bow; white, lace panties hiding beneath my dress; and the silver, submissive day collar with red, black, and silver entwined O-ring you gifted me not long after we met, I shy away and hide a smile with every glance and every touch we share. At the museum, you whispered suggestively in my ear. At dinner, you wore me down with your eyes and subtle touches to my hand. At the movies, your hand snuck past my dress hem (one you bought me for this night). Enough for a damp spot to appear on the seat below me.

As the night reaches a close, we’re taking a walk downtown nearing your hotel, and I find myself drifting closer and closer to you, brushing my hand against yours shyly. Of course, you can already tell exactly what I need, and after intertwining our fingers, you offer to close out the night in your hotel room for a cup of coffee or whatever else I may be craving. I tell you, ‘I’d love a little dessert’ and you smirk knowingly. You rest your hand on the small of my back and guide me closer to you, walking a little faster towards the dark haven of your room. We finally reach the hotel, rushing past the doorman and concierge to the elevators lining the back wall. You press the button to take us up once, but after another thirty seconds, I’m pressing it a few more times, biting into my lip and feeling my chest grow warm. You laugh openly, and I smile shyly up at you enjoying this moment between us. When the elevator finally arrives, you grab me by my waist and turn me around, pushing me until my back hits the back wall of the elevator.

My breath stalls as the doors close, and you press closer to me, hips aligning and the length of your dick pressing ever closer. Your lips brush mine, and the warmth of your breath against my skin brings goosebumps to the surface. I press up to kiss you properly, but you pull back so my lips barely touch yours. The tingle that follows brings stars to my eyes and would have taken me to my knees, if not for your strong arms and body holding me up. One of your hands wraps tightly around my waist and the other trails down my face, my cheek, my lips, up my jaw, around my ear, down my neck, traces my collarbone (where my collar drapes beautifully), and down my cleavage. I tilt my head back to give you more room, and you trail your hand to the hem of my dress, up my bare thigh, towards the soaked panties you bought to match the strapless bra hidden behind the thin material of the gorgeous dress. Just when your finger brushes my warm and pulsating center, you seem to remember where we are.

You reach back and find the button for your room floor, and once the elevator starts moving and I am no longer about to collapse, you slowly step away and stand beside me. A whimper leaves my throat, and I peel my eyes open, breathing erratically and shivering without your warmth. Your hand is still on my waist in case I lose balance, and I am grateful. Especially when the elevator stops and startles me, still drunk on your touch.

Our silence is buzzing in my ears, making my skin heat up and my heart beat hard against my chest. You guide me out of the elevator, hand just barely skimming my back, causing more goosebumps to break out on my skin. I glance up at you, and find a look of determination and excitement on your face that sparks my own. When we reach your room, you finally look at me, the eye contact sizzling between us. I squirm, unable to hold it for long, and you break into a gentle grin and wink at me. I damn near cream myself. You look away to unlock your door, and after letting me in, you close and lock it behind you. I take a few deep breaths to center myself, and when I turn, you tell me to make myself at home. I bite my lip and place my bag on the nearby table. I bend over at the waist, feeling your eyes on me as I slowly untie my shoes, slipping them off my feet. When I finish, I turn towards your bed, looking back at you for a potential nod. Once I receive it, I crawl onto the bed, teasing the little I can without fear of punishment. I settle onto the bed, back against the headboard and the feral look in your eye sends shivers down my spine. You toe off your own shoes, and undress part of the way, taking off your jacket, rolling up your sleeves and loosening your tie. Once this is done, you ask me a question.

‘Safe word?’ I flush hot and whisper it to you (Tardis). You nod and finally make your way over to me. You start up a gentle conversation about what’s going to happen: ‘we’ll start with a message, over the clothes then undress. We can undress at your pace, and I can be any level of undress that you’re comfortable with. Use the safe word at any time. Once you’ve relaxed, we can start with foreplay, understand?’ I know you prefer verbal confirmation, so I say ‘yes sir’ and you smile at me, eager to begin. You ask me to lay down on my front and I do, resting my head on my arms. You start by running the tips of your fingers up and down my exposed skin, raising goosebumps and my heart rate with every stroke. You brush my hair away from my shoulders and follow your fingers with the barest touch of your lips, and I can't help but gasp and let loose an airy moan. I whimper and bite my lip, but you whisper hoarsely and heavily into my ear, ‘It’s okay baby girl. Let me hear you feel good.’

I let out a real moan at that, and I can feel your shaky breath at the back of my neck. You straddle my back and your weight has me rutting into the sheets, so ready for an orgasm, just one. But you grab my hips and say no. I can feel you exerting your dominance on me with just one word, and my hips stop their search for pleasure. Once satisfied that I won’t continue squirming, you slide down my body and rub my ass only to spank it once, twice, three times. Each time, I cry out in pain and pleasure, pussy clenching around emptiness and pushing me towards my inevitable finish. No, you say, and I know you mean business. I settle back down, and you begin rubbing at my neck and shoulders, finding the knots and tense spots in my body and smoothing them out one by one. The pleasure lures me into a false sense of security that you routinely interrupt with a spank to my reddening cheeks. By the time you move to peel my dress off of me, I’m gasping, tears running down my face and on the verge of an orgasm.

You undress me slowly, kissing my exposed skin and whispering sweet words into my skin, healing the harsher actions from before. I sigh and moan at each touch and kiss. You lay me on my back once you have removed my dress and bra, but the panties remain. When you gesture at yourself, I sit up to remove your tie and shirt. We remove your belt and loosen the pants, but you stop me from completely removing them. Finally, you pull me into your lap, look at me and caress my face, looking at me with such tenderness that I forget to breathe. I can’t take it anymore, so as my eyes fill with tears and yours lock on mine, I lean forward and kiss you, pouring my heart, my gratitude into this kiss. You lick into my mouth, taking control of the kiss and guiding my more inexperienced mouth to pleasure you the way you’d like. As we kiss, you sit back, and have me straddle your waist, where I can feel your cock pressing into my most intimate of spaces, as if asking for entrance.

I want to grind down, but I remember the spanks and still my hips, focusing on your tongue tasting mine. I start to get light headed and pull away only to have you pull me back for more. I giggle and kiss you again, loving your lips on mine. You begin to travel down my neck, sucking a few spots to mark me as yours, although we both know that’s what the collar is for. As I sigh and let my head fall back, you grasp the back of my neck and pull me closer to your teeth to give yourself more room to work with. I gasp out ‘Daddy’ as you do, and I can feel you growl in approval against my throat. As you move further down, you take my nipple into your hot, panting mouth, sucking gently then hard then biting down and pulling at my breast. I almost scream as my vision goes white and my pussy drools onto your lap. 

You move onto the other nipple, doing the same as with the first, still pulling at it with your fingers, sucking me closer and closer to the edge. Finally, you rasp into my ear, ‘you can cum for me, baby girl. Cum on Daddy’s lap’. And soon enough, I do. Gasping, and moaning your name, grinding down on you in spite of myself. But you can’t be mad at me. Once I start to settle down, my hands and head resting on your chest, you lay us down. With me on my back and you hovering over me, you kiss me once more, taking my breath away before climbing off the bed.

You’ve gone to retrieve a few necessary tools: our play collar, lube, a condom, and a butt plug. I admire the red and black leather of my play collar, silver D-rings glinting under the dim light of your room. The dangling piece in the very front is too far for me to read, but I know what it says: Daddy’s Slut. My face heats up, and I pant heavily in anticipation of the thick collar encircling my delicate throat. As my eyes run over the items you’ve brought out for play, I linger on the anal plug, silver with the red end shining in promise. As I am distracted, imagining what’s to come next, you take the opportunity to take off your pants and socks. When you come back, you bring me back to you by kissing me some more and asking if I’m okay to continue. ‘Yes sir’, I gasp, eager for what more will be. 

You bring your lips back to mine, dragging your fingertips down my skin to my thigh, which you bring over your hip, using your own hips to grind us into each other as your other hand holds you above me. The pleasure I feel as my clothed clit presses into you is enough to have my face, neck, and chest growing hot and my breath picking back up. I can barely focus on the kiss, and you take complete control as my body shakes with pleasure. You lay me on my back and lay on your side next to me, surveying my body with your hand and eyes. You ask me if I’m ready for my collar and once I respond the way you want, you unclasp my day collar placing that on the nightstand next to us. Then, you take our play collar, nipping gently at my throat before wrapping it around me and locking it with a final click. When I gasp and look into your eyes, you kiss me on the forehead and whisper ‘mine’.

After, you ask if you can remove my panties and I say ‘yes’ of course. You do so and part my now exposed, wet lips with a finger. I take in a shuddery breath and spread my legs for you, looking away shyly. You bring my face back to you and whisper how beautiful you find me. When I frown in response, you take my hand and press it into your boxers, where your cock is straining to get out. I gasp at the feel, and my mouth waters at the feel of your hard and hot cock.

Finally, you begin the next step: opening me up. You know it’s my first time, and you show that when you bring two fingers to my lips, getting me to suck on them and coat them with my saliva. Then, you ease one finger into my opening, taking the necessary time to open me around you. I hold onto your arm that’s closest to me, biting into my lip and trying my best to relax. You kiss me to try and distract me, which allows you to squeeze a second finger into my tight pussy. I gasp against your mouth, so you slow down and scissor your fingers before pumping slowly in and out of me, hitting delicious spots within me. 

You pull your fingers out of my dripping cunt to find my lips, and I taste myself on your thick fingers, moaning around them. Once they’ve been successfully soaked, you press them once again into my aching hole. With three fingers, you’re reaching deeper within me than I ever could, and you slide down to suckle at my clit as well. With your fingers inside of me, my clit in your hot mouth, and one of my nipples being twisted in your skillful fingers, I climb towards another high. Bucking my hips and crying out, I can’t seem to let go, but you won’t let up. You curl your fingers and scrape your teeth on my clit until my vision blurs, and I cum harder than I ever have before. Rasping Daddy loudly and repeatedly, I curse and moan out my second orgasm of the day.

Now that I’ve cum twice, my pussy is dripping onto the bedspread, and you have me flip onto my stomach. From this position, you have me on my knees and elbows, and you spread my cheeks, enjoying the view. You had helped me clean myself for this occasion before our date, but wanted to save that particular activity for another day. You kiss and bite at my ass, lightly smacking it, remembering the spanks from earlier. You then, lick at my winking asshole, working your tongue into it and lightly pressing on my clit with one hand. I push back into your face, arching my back to get you to give me more. You do so in using the lube to soften my hole and press your finger into it. Once again working me open, little by little, you eventually get to the point where the now lubed anal plug can be worked into my virgin ass. I squeak and sigh as you work it in, and your success has my pussy drooling.

Finally, it’s time for our mutual pleasure, but I turn over and ask to taste your cock. You can’t resist the thought of my mouth on you, so you allow me to take a hold of your cock. I caress you through your boxers, watching your dick twitch on its own. I can’t take my eyes off of it, and I peel your underwear away to catch the scent of your manhood. I love the heady, masculine scent wafting from it, and I bury my nose in your crotch, mouthing at the base of your cock. You groan heavily and guide my head to the head of cock, where I lick up the leaking precum, tasting you for the first time. I moan at the taste, licking and sucking at your head as if I am nursing on your cock’s milk. You can’t help but buck a bit, pushing your cock further into my mouth, causing me to gag. You love the sound of me gagging on your cock, so you do it again and again before pulling me off and hurriedly grabbing the condom. You take the time to teach me the best way to put one on, being sure to lube up once it’s on. Once the job is done, you flip me back over.

‘Fuck baby girl’, you say. ‘You really are a cum slut, the way you were fucking gagging on my cock. Next time, I’ll be sure to fuck your pretty little throat’. I groan at the thought, and you line up behind me again. After a little more lube and fingering, you finally push into me with your cock, slowing down when I ask and soothing me with kisses down my back. The more I relax, the more you slide in, impaling me on your thick cock. My pussy clenches and unclenches around your dick, already trying to milk its treat out of you, and when you finally bottom out and drape yourself over me, I shiver and marvel in our difference in size. The newfound twinge and stretch of my pussy turns my stomach, but your patient words, gentle touch, dirty praise, and everything that came before this ease my pain and discomfort. You use this time to talk filthily into my ear, using your now raspy voice to have me clenching down on your fat cock. You toy with the plug in my ass as well, pulling it out a tiny bit, before pushing it in as deep as it can go. It’s no wonder I find myself drooling into the sheets, aching for another orgasm that I know you can and will give me.

You push in and out of me, slowly at first, but once you see how blissed out I’ve become, you start to speed up and pound my pussy, starting up a hard and fast pace accompanied by the filthy words escaping your mouth. I can’t help cursing lowly, and my eyes roll as the waves of pleasure wash over me. You wrap your hand around my throat and bring us to a kneeling position, where you can now piston into me and reach my clit as well. With all of the stimulation, my head rolls back onto your shoulder, and I grow louder with every pump, unable to hold back my sounds and neither can you. Your growls and deep moans only push me closer to the precipice of my orgasm. You tell me how tight I am, how much you love my virgin hole, how much the contrast and contact between your skin and mine turns you on, and how badly you wanna bury yourself in my pussy and fill me with your cum. You know how much I wanna be bred, so you use that to bring me ever closer. 

‘I’m gonna cum so deep inside of you and paint your walls with my white cum. I’m gonna give you a baby that’ll be so fucking perfect cause you’re fucking perfect. But you gotta cum baby. I can’t give you a baby until you cum baby girl. So cum for me. Cum for Daddy, go ahead’. As you encourage me and talk to me, my pleasure ramps up until I’m exploding onto your cock, groaning so loudly and sharply, I know I’ve shattered my voice. My limbs start to quiver, and all the strength left in me is ebbing away. My breath comes hard and fast, and you moan at the feel of my cunt sucking and pulling at your cock. Soon after, you release deep inside of me, pounding home a few more times before relaxing us onto the bed.

I’m gasping underneath you, reduced to jelly in your arms, and you take the time to carefully pull out and clean up. You grab a cool, wet washcloth to wipe down my sensitive pussy with and dispose of the condom. Afterwards, you bring me a clean t-shirt and panties to wear, having changed into comfy clothes yourself. You kiss me gently, passion ebbing away to make room for care and love and make your way down my throat. You look so gently upon my collar, and stroke the words we chose to show that I am yours. I can’t help but smile at the sight, reaching up with my hand to cup your cheek. You come back to me, kissing the palm of my hand and unlocking the collar, signifying the end of play (for now). You turn to place the play collar to the side and lift my silver day choker off the bedside table. I smile again, feeling content and grounded once you slip it back around my neck, clasping it once more. Once, I’m comfortable, you spend time kissing me and rubbing my shoulders, kissing my throat and reassuring me that I’m beautiful and perfect and everything was better than you ever expected. You even have my favorite snack and some water ready for me to replenish my energy. You ask me questions about each step: what I liked, what I didn’t like, how it can be improved for next time, what I want next time. And after I’ve answered your questions, you hold me close until I can fall asleep in your arms, satisfied at last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How did your first time go, if you had one? Talk to me, I'm lonely... 
> 
> Anyway, I hate to ramble. 
> 
> You'll probably see me in other fics lol. Bye for now


	2. The King of Crab Court

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The King of Crab Court features an idol I'm sure you'll recognize though I tried not to mention him by name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My mind wanted a bit of hurt followed by a bit of comfort, so here's some angst sandwiched in fluff. It's a lot longer than I thought it would be, but that's mostly because I had no idea where I was going with this story. Hopefully, you enjoy it anyway. Also, I have stanned BTS for four years now, but I'm not the type to get too involved or else I'll completely lose myself, so if I got something wrong, please let me know.

The sea was shining. That was the juvenile description that floated through my mind as I admired the way the early morning sun glinted off the horizon and the blue waters on the coast of the country I now called home. I didn’t know it then, but this would soon become my most favorite place to be. My most favorite place to spend my days, running in and out of the cool waters that would lap at my ankles and the breeze that would weave through my hair and across my face smelling of salt and freedom and youth. I didn’t know it then, but I would miss my youth.

I run as fast and as far as I can, moving to the invisible rhythm within my heart that drove me to move and drove me to enjoy each day as if it were my last. I run so hard and fast that my parents who I can hear yelling and laughing after me soon fade from my attention. My eyes widen in an effort to see everything and everyone at once, but of course it’s not possible, so my head is on a swivel turning, left and right and up and down, and I spin until I’m dizzy with the stimulus.  
The name of the beach fills my head until the word loses meaning, Haeundae Haeundae Haeundae Haeund-Eventually, my parents catch up, and my mother gathers me in her arms before laughing loudly at my behavior. I know she loves to see the happiness on my face. I wiggle as much as I can to escape and hop along as my father works to find us the perfect spot on the beach. It’s not yet crowded, but I know that it will fill up soon. A perfect summer day like this one has to mean that everyone had the same idea as the three of us.

Once the spot is found, I pull at my t-shirt nearly falling over with the force and my giggling mother has to grab my hands to stop me from falling. I vibrate with excitement, and my mother has trouble getting my clothes off, but finally I am left with my swimsuit and a thick layer of sticky sunscreen. I dash as fast as I can towards the water, dragging my father along, who had finished stripping down to his swim trunks by then. My father yelps but snatches me by the waist and throws my squealing form over his shoulder, jogging to the ocean and splashing into the cold water.

When I feel the temperature of the water on my dangling legs, I can’t help but squeal even louder causing my father’s shoulders to shake in laughter. I wiggle enough eventually, that dad lets me down, and I immediately use my small hands to scoop up water and have it rain down on us underneath the rising sun. I remember what my father looked like with my makeshift rain sprinkling down on his beaming face. I remember how the glittering “rain” matched the glitter in his eyes. I remember too well.

My mother, who has been sneaking up behind my father, lifts a finger to her lips to silence me, and I know the mischief in her eyes is mirrored in mine. My father is unaware, but soon, he’s dunked under the water too quickly for his mind to have caught up. Mom and I laugh in chorus, and mom’s hands slap mine in victory. It must be hours that my parents and I spend in and out of the water, swimming, splashing, sparkling in this time we are spending together. When the sun is high enough, we climb out of the water (dragged in my case) so we can eat and rejuvenate our energy for our afternoon romp in the sea.

By this point, many families, couples, and kids have found their way to our corner of the beach, wanting to share in the fun. I sit next to my mother, but I soon regret that decision once she clicks open her sunscreen and slathers it on my body as quick as a viper striking from the sand. Fight as I might, there is no escape from SPF300 (my mother later corrects me and says it was only SPF30, so why does it burn mother???). Once escape is allowed, I stand with my feet wide, hair drying on my neck and cheeks. I can already feel my freckles cropping up on my shoulders and cheekbones.

Glancing about, I see something that catches my interest. An average boy, who only seems a few years my senior is building sandcastles just close enough to the tide for the wet sand and the large amount of sand he has accumulated surrounded by an impressive moat draws me to him. Grabbing my own series of pails and shovels, I politely put my hand on dad’s wrist. He places his hand on top of mine to show he has my attention and finishes his conversation with the neighboring man before turning towards me.

I point to the little boy and lift my pails. Once dad understands, he smiles softly and nods his permission. I grin widely, never able to hide my enthusiasm from others and walk quickly but calmly to the construction in progress. I clear my throat as politely as I can to grab the boy’s attention and lift my pails again to signify what I wanted to do.

I introduce myself proudly, saluting with shovel in hand. The grin on my sunscreen-streaked face must convince him to address me, as he shyly smiles back and stands to greet me. I can’t help but smile even wider at the shy tone coloring his introduction and decide this boy shall be King of the castle, and I shall protect him with my life. ‘I probably won’t remember your name, so tell me… What’s your favorite thing about the beach?’ He tilts his head curiously but answers nonetheless with ‘crabs’. I smile again, not being able to help the glee I feel in this wholesome interaction. Placing my pails on the sand, I get down on one knee, shovel-filled hand over my heart once again and bow my head.

I can tell by the way the King shuffles his feet that he doesn’t quite understand but this only makes me want to roll over in laughter. I find the will to hold it in and speak the words in my heart. I shall dub thee King Crab of the Castle. When I hear nothing but silence in return, I glance up at the baffled King (composing his response, I’m sure). The look on his face has me cackling, and when I rise only to bend at the waist and knees in consuming laughter, King Crab composes himself enough to ask me a question. Does that make you my Queen?

My laughter dies as quickly as the innocence of childhood, and the silence that follows is heavy. Once the King has realized this, he shifts from one foot to the other and glances away from me. I smirk and relax before responding. Nah. I wouldn’t make a good queen, but I’ll definitely make a great knight. This seems to be enough to relax the King and the playful mood returns to us. I bend to pick up my pails and smile widely, asking where I can help.

Finally relaxing around me, the King gives his orders, and we begin our work on the Castle of Haeundae. We spend more time than was probably necessary working on our grand dwelling, making plans together and taking the time to bring them to life. As we work, I learn more about the King and he the Knight. We talk about school, music, and the shows we watch.

Once King Crab sums up the courage to ask where I’m from, I answer with Busan before laughing and telling him of my origins (my mother is from Germany, my father from Busan, and years spent in America make me a foreigner). King Crab, just as all others, becomes very excited at the idea of speaking to a foreigner and asks question after question.

Usually, this would have me rolling my eyes and making an excuse to disappear, but the King has a way of asking, in curiosity, with the intention to learn, with the intention to understand, that has me gladly answering every question. The jokes we share and his broken English have my cheeks burning as the sky darkens and the sun begins its descent.

There are moments where my parents call me over, especially my mother to reapply the cream of death, and moments where his parents do the same. Soon, our parents simply stay together, combining towels and umbrellas on a patch of the beach near us. As the sun starts to set, we finish our castle with the burning sky as background, and once we step back to admire our work, I can’t help but maniacally laugh at the lopsided and misshapen architectural masterpiece we have created.

At first King Crab is insulted, but the tilt of his head that follows breaks him, and he joins me in Joker-esque joy. Our laughter has gained us attention, so we try to calm down, but as the laughter dies, we glance at one another and explosive laughter starts up again. This carries on for long enough that the pair of us are crying and gasping on the sand complaining of tummy aches and stretching cheeks and our parents are making their way over to us.

That first summer, I was at the beach with my parents for a week, and King Crab met me every day by our sloping Castle where we would joust with shovels and chase one another up and down the salty strip of land, weaving in and out of the warm summer waves. Our parents saw the two of us and made plans to come back the next year, which we did. Slowly, but surely, the years passed, the summers glowed and faded, and the King and I, his Knight, grew. We didn’t really notice time pass.

The summer remained unchanged. The week of swimming, castle building (we got much better), and talking about anything and everything under the sun never changed. Except a week never felt like enough time. My (not so) average boy grew taller, grew more confident in himself, learned so much. I did the same. The best part of growing up was growing together.

The summers stayed the same, until they didn’t. One day, the final day of our week in the sun, we chased one another through the waves like children, which we still were despite the years that had flown like the chicken of the sea. We were old enough to have the future loom over us, but young enough to dream and use them as a fuel for the day. My king and I ran and laughed and played within the waters of our youth, and on that day with the setting sun and our collapse into laughter, everything changed.

The long shadows of our parents looming over our panting bodies seem to cool down our heating cheeks and with a few final glances and giggles, the King and I lay back, heads together and bodies brushing, and watch the sky darken. When I glance over, the coloring of the setting sun on King Crab’s face combined with the lingering heat on his face and smile with dimples peeking out has my breath stalling in a way I remember from my very first time noticing a boy. My father called it love, my mother called it a crush, I called it a disease.

However, when my King turns his face towards mine, face closer than it should have been, I can’t help but declare myself sick. I grin and laugh to hide the sound of my heart thumping in my chest and the way King returns the smile... In a panic, I’m up and grabbing King Crab’s hand racing to the ocean and splashing into the cooling waters once more. With my hands creating the “rain” of salty water coming down, I was able to ignore the heat in my cheeks and the glitter in our eyes could be attributed to the splashing.

Once it was late enough that the moon was beaming down at us from the stars, King Crab and I retreated to our towel, dressed in our sun-soaked clothes, and huddled together for warmth. The quiet chatter of our parents resting nearby and the sound of the waves crashing towards us filled this newly-charged silence between us. I couldn’t help but smile widely and when my King’s smile matched mine, I couldn’t help but grant him a kiss on his dimpled cheek and his lips that parted in surprise. His smile dropped before coming back smaller but somehow more sincere than before.

Our faces burned, but we never looked away from one another. The smiles, the weight of our eyes on each other, the warmth we shared made my chest burn with the sickness. Where once I would have run and yelled ‘Down with the Sickness, Death to the Man’, now I found I only wanted more. When I found the silence too heavy, I spoke in a hushed and playful tone, ‘Your Majesty, I have served as Knight of the Crab Court for years, may I ask thee a question?’ Of course his answer was ‘You just did’. But I asked my second question, ignoring the faux pas. I looked up to the sky, then the dark sea before us and spoke, ‘I rejected your proposal to make me your Queen all those years ago… Would it be presumptuous of me to accept said proposal on this cloudless and starry night?’ I could feel my King’s eyes on me.

‘I…’ These were the only words to leave his lips, and as I waited to hear more, there was only silence. I swallowed hard, eyes burning, and slowly stood, eyes never leaving the shoreline. The scuttling of a creature caught my attention and I couldn’t help but smile. Without a word spoken, I put out my hand for the King’s and when he wordlessly took it, I gently pulled him to the creature I had spotted. Its six legs and tiny claws had the King named for these creatures kneeling into the damp sand and reaching with both hands for the crab.

We took turns holding and stoking the creature, avoiding as best we could the teeny pincers that could wake us from this dream. I remember the moon glinting off the dark sea and his dark eyes. I remember the smile framed by dimples that seemed as deep as the ocean that night. I remember too well.

The following summer was not the same. They say the more things change, the more they stay the same, but I could no longer agree. Things changed. There was no way they would ever be the same. Summers were spent working, according to my mother, who wanted the best for me, even if her best did not match mine. So, The following summer contact with the King faded. Faded is the wrong word. It didn’t fade, but instead was like turning off the light. A switch was clicked, and the light was gone. Meanwhile, the laughter that once filled my home faded. Faded like the site of the cemetery in our rear view mirror as my mother and I drove back to a house absent of light. I guess you would call that dark. It felt unreal, that summer. It felt like the crab had pinched me after all, and the dream was over. 

Fortunately, when the second King-less summer’s sun rose, it felt a little warmer and a little less cloudy. Maybe because that summer, I found a bit of the light I had lost in summers past. I had always connected with music, enough that I worked at my talent and had gotten a position learning all I could to improve with a great group of people.

I had a new dream, and I refused to let a royal crustacean pinch it from me. The thing is refusal can be compared to denial in that it cannot stop reality from declaring itself. This reality was found in the news I received through my mother. It was three summers A.K. (After King), two summers after I began my own training, and Mom heard this news from an old friend (a friend made under the summer sun), who had gotten the news from her son. Her son who had spent summers building castles and jousting with a beautiful knight. Mom told me of how His Majesty and I were on similar paths, and those paths were bound to cross. 

What joy she expressed at this. What despair I hid. 

King Crab and his pincers were looming, were drawing closer, were closing in. The Knight of Haeundae had to draw her sword, but instead, she hid. She hid within her music, within her training, within her lyrics that were too close to revealing the summers gone with the winds of change. Far be it from me to slash at the dreams of another when my own were on the verge of being realized.

I threw myself into the singing, into the dancing, into leading those who needed it. I never felt like enough, but from what I heard neither did he. It felt forbidden to listen to the snippets of his music I allowed myself to hear. It felt like betrayal to the heartbroken member of the Crab Court who kissed a boy and grew up too quickly. It felt like betrayal, but it also felt like coming home. Summers came, summers went. Why I kept measuring the years in summers was a mystery to me. Everything about the King and I was a mystery, especially when things began to change again. I was growing, this time in my own space, with people outside of the King, people unafraid to trust and love me. I was moving on, and then, it felt like I hadn’t changed a thing. 

Really, I don’t even know how it happened. How I went from avoiding even his name to hanging on to every mention. I don’t know how it happened. How I went from wanting so much to hate him to loving every part of him. I don’t know how it happened. How I went from running away as fast as I could to standing before him years after the heartache had faded. Faded like the heat of the summer sun fading from the world as it slips into autumn. Faded like words from my lips as he walked by. Faded like how the pain I felt thinking of him had faded back into love.

It was a show. The meeting was at a show, and the meeting felt like a show. With depressingly dramatic music in the background, lots of camera angles, slow motion, and intense stares between us. I felt like the seconds that it took us to glide past one another were stretching like Flash time, but over too quickly like everyone else outside of it. It was both too much and not enough. How awful it is to be in love.

The whole night was spent with my eyes glued to him or his image on the screens. My manager would smack me if she could. Too much staring could be suspicious to the fans and stans and people with much too much time on their hands. But I couldn’t help it. The same way I couldn’t help but smile at him on those summer days. I knew his eyes were glued to me as well. I didn’t catch him, the way I hope he didn’t catch me, but I knew. I knew it like I knew his smile. I knew it like I knew his voice. I knew it like I knew I missed my King. Did he miss his Knight? His Knight that so desperately wanted to be his Queen? It’s too much and not enough.

The award’s announcement that changed everything was both too much and not enough. Too much because it overwhelmed my senses with joy and pride and an ugly amount of envy. Not enough in that they deserved more, we deserved more. We? He. He deserved more than a Knight who can’t even protect her own heart. I deserved more than to love from afar. We deserved more as the King and the Knight of the Crab Court. My group deserved more than a leader that deemed herself unfit to rule years ago and never recovered. How awful it is to be in love.

How does this story even end? When does the lump in my throat go away? Where do we meet again? In a hotel hallway, apparently. I was caught with my underwear down. Not really, but it felt like it. I was sneaking to the vending machine. In comfy pj’s and socked feet, I tiptoed down the hall to the small alcove set aside for the vending and ice machines. Paying what I needed, I was on my way back when I saw him. He stepped in, suddenly taller than I remember (though I had just seen him). He seemed stronger than I remember, which made me feel even more weak. Weak at the knees, weak at heart, weak of mind. I felt like a child before a man. Like David before Goliath. A peasant before a King. But David did win that fight, so I drew myself up and said the first words exchanged between us in so many summers, ‘Hi.’

It was like a bubble burst, and suddenly, we were laughing and talking together as if no time had passed at all. We sat together that late night turned to day, and we talked about everything under that early morning sun. I couldn’t see the sun, but I could feel it in every dimpled smile, in every freckled grin, in every comforting word, touch, glance. They say you know you’re true friends with someone when no matter how much time has passed, coming back to each other is like coming home. Everything about my King was calling me home.

Finally, when yawns started to overpower the words. I asked him. I asked him the question that burned in my heart from that first summer A.K. ‘Why?’ He paused with a faraway smile on his face and a faraway look in his eyes. ‘Summers are meant to be spent working, and summers spent with you were a waste.’ I nearly cried. ‘That’s what my parents said that first summer after… After we kissed.’

‘I spent too much time with you, they said. Too much time spent focusing on you and music and not enough time thinking about my future.’ I could understand that, but instead of expressing my own thoughts, I held my breath for more of his. ‘Little did they know, all the time I spent thinking about you and rap, I was thinking about my future.’ I was still holding, but I could feel the gasp coming. My King looks over at me, eyes glittering like the “rain” of summers gone. ‘Rap is my passion, and as much as you denied it, you were my Queen.’ ‘Were?’ I had to ask. I had to know. ‘Were. And still are.’ There was the gasp.

Despite the happiness bubbling up inside me, I could feel the tears burn at my eyes and throat. I whispered his name. Not the name I had given him all those summers ago, not the name he went by when being magnetic on stage, but the name I told him I would never remember, but in reality, could never forget. He whispered mine in response. When our lips met and our hands tentatively rested on one another (mine at his broad shoulders and neck, his at my waist and back), I felt weak, but damn, did I feel strong too. I felt stronger by his side and the way he gathered me against him, I knew he felt the same. Because just as I had a group to lead, people to be strong for, he did as well, and finally, we were with the one person we felt we could be weak with. The person who could help us have true strength.

We went our separate ways that night and talked things over with our respective heads. We wanted contact, we needed it after so many years apart. And we got it. We fought for a life with one another, and we got it. When we could, we talked. When we could, we met. When we could, we lived. It was never easy, except for when we were together. Together was easy; it was being apart that was hard. But we didn’t have to be apart anymore. I blinked in the bright sunlight that was suddenly shadowed by his large form. Smiling, I stood and shook the sand from my clothes as he showed me his hands. His namesake scuttle slowly in his palm and the smile in his eyes and on his face was mirrored on my own. Summers remained unchanged. Cause the more things changed, the more they stayed the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who was your first love?
> 
> Mine was a family friend that I later learned was actually my second cousin or something like that. TMI I know.
> 
> Yikes... See you next time.


End file.
